Paradise Found
Up the mountainous path we climbed
through the ridges and valleys we walked
seeking adventure of a peculiar sort.
Down the steep ravines we paced
stopping at times to catch our breath
and to view the lovely country ahead.
On and on we made our way
until at dusk we were exhausted.
It would be here where we would make our stay
in an area that seemed to be lightly forested.
Under a clear night sky bright with stars shinning
we settled down eager to refresh ourselves and
made preparations to share our meal for the evening
seeming perhaps like some fugitive band.
A restful and joyous sleep we had that night
one that exceeded our expectations.
Some enchanted evening we experienced
one that was followed by no disillusionment;
awakening to the sweet fragrance of flowers and other delights.
It was as if we were in paradise it seemed................
We all looked around and beheld in awe
the serenity and beauty surrounding us all.
There were flowers of many types and hues
and fruit bearing trees from which to choose.
There were various animals at a stream nearby
and birds flying overhead in the clear blue sky.
There was everything here for us to see
that we almost no longer thought could be.
poem by George Krokos
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Related quotes
Paradise the planets of bliss
Paradise is the planets of bliss
The home of God’s Body
The garden of Beauty
It is full of good flora and fauna
And made of gold, silver and precious other things
There are fountains and streams in paradise
They are also signs of God’s superb workmanship
There is morning, noontime and evening in paradise
But there is no night
At noontime it is full of silver light
In the morning and in the evening
Tints of various colors are visible in its sky
In paradise
The evenings are more colorful than the mornings
And the mornings are more refreshing than the evenings
The residential area of the poor people of paradise is near its gates
The middle class people live in the middle area of paradise
The high-class people live at the end of paradise.
There is currency in paradise and many market places
To buy things of one's choice
Where all salespersons are angels
The residential area of the prophets and the like
Is at the end of Ferdous paradise
Wherefrom God’s main court
Laohay Mahfuz and Sidratul Muntaha are nearby.
poem by Asif Andalib
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God's Garden
God made a beatous garden
With lovely flowers strown,
But one straight, narrow pathway
That was not overgrown.
And to this beauteous garden
He brought mankind to live,
And said: 'To you, my children,
These lovely flowers I give.
Prune ye my vines and fig trees,
With care my flowerets tend,
But keep the pathway open
Your home is at the end.'
Then came another master,
Who did not love mankind,
And planted on the pathway
Gold flowers for them to find.
And mankind saw the bright flowers,
That, glitt'ring in the sun,
Quite hid the thorns of av'rice
That poison blood and bone;
And far off many wandered,
And when life's night came on,
They still were seeking gold flowers,
Lost, helpless and alone.
O, cease to heed the glamour
That blinds your foolish eyes,
Look upward to the glitter
Of stars in God's clear skies.
Their ways are pure and harmless
And will not lead astray,
Bid aid your erring footsteps
To keep the narrow way.
And when the sun shines brightly
Tend flowers that God has given
And keep the pathway open
That leads you on to heaven.
poem by Robert Frost
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Rainbows
Rainbows of color, are seen after a storm,
The way God made the first one, the curved form;
Red, yellow, blue, green and purple, orange too,
Made as a Promise for Noah, a promise kept true.
Rainbows of color, across the land so wide,
In the trees and hills, the sunsets, over a set tide;
Only God could make it, oh perfect beauty,
Made to enjoy them, made for you and me.
Rainbows of Colour, in Gods creatures too,
Such pretty animals, like the camealion it's true;
Then there's the birds, from flamingo, and parrikeet,
God made them all, watch them at the zoo, sitting on a seat.
Rainbows of color, in all the trees and flowers as well,
Like the roses, carnations, violets, and the Irish bell;
Purples, pinks, blues, many shades we'll see,
God also put colors in an insect, such as a tiny bee.
Rainbows of color, We see in veggies and fruit too,
Like cabbages, tomatoes, turnips and capsicum, it's true;
Peaches, oranges, apples, passion fruit as well,
God made them for us all to share, we should in thanks to God, tell.
poem by Margaret Haig
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Lonely Paradise
I thought the sobbing so sweet the day that I had to say goodbye
Now I am in paradise alone it’s those tears that really make me cry
Perfume in the air from flowers I cannot name
Birds on my balcony that I don’t need to tame
It’s a lonely paradise
A lonely lovely paradise
That isn’t the same without you
That makes the blue sky days seems blue
Lovers on the beach saying hello to me as they walk on by
I check my phone for messages seeing if you are there just to say hi.
I thought that I wanted to get away – far away
To numb the pain – but the tropical winds just fans the flames
It’s a lonely paradise
A lonely lovely paradise
That isn’t the same without you
That makes the turquoise sea seen so - oh so blue
It’s a lonely paradise
A lonely, lonely paradise
poem by Michael WheelerWyatt
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Night and Day
I painted a picture of the day
Nature in her sweet tranquil
Her beauty was dazzling in every way
By her sun upon the hill!
I made her grasses the color green
Blue the color of the sea
In pink and red her flowers sheen
In brown, her rocks sit solitary
I painted a picture of the night
But nature has lost her spark
I colored her beauty in black and white
What glory is there in the dark?
I made her sky with dotted light
Of stars in their endless space
But there was no color to make her bright
But the moon with her golden face
I placed both pictures side by side
Media of dark and light
The night to nature, a time to hide
The day her sweet delight
Were i to vote between these two
I will give all to the day
I will paint in her a perfect view
I will have her all the way!
But wait! There is more than meet the eyes
For things are not all we see
For all stuffs are made of good and ills
Beyond our phylosophy
The day i painted with color bright
Is marred with worries and woes
And just a covering with colors and light
Of all beneath her throes.
Now, the night in her dreaded sight
When half the world is asleep
Is an illusion, a passage of day to night
Whereon i sleep free and deep
Free from all worldly pain indeed
That by day plagued every soul
And away from mortals lust and greed
Is a man's life long goal
I cannot choose one, the other bid farewell
In both, all things are one
So i kept the day, and the night as well
For both made me a man! !
poem by Okonkwo Osamedua. Allen
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I Walked Out One Evening
I walked out one evening, ,
as the sun was setting low.
Trees were whispering in the breeze,
as it yielded a gentle blow.
Skies transformed to reddish hues,
as my feet crossed o’er the ground,
Then along the path by the brook,
dead leaves lay scattered all around,
Birdsong filled the loud silence,
one last song, for twilight creeps.
The sun has set behind the trees,
as the darkness its vigil keeps.
I walked out one evening,
observing such beauty spread.
To experience the colours,
orange and gold so finely wed.
The music of the water,
as it trickled down the stream.
Such peacefulness, silent, calming,
a perfect floating tranquil dream.
Now as the day is ending,
such visions assail the eyes,
One royal sky ‘s magnificent,
enhanced by the night’s fireflies.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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My Lovely Flower
I thank God for my lovely flower
For there are millions who are ignorant of her existance,
The enchanting aroma that is with her,
Or her charm that makes me to always keep thinking,
I am fascinated that she was wonderfully made,
Then just kept for me to find one day.
Seeing her is like waking up at dawn to bath in the Sun's rays
She has harmless attraction like a colorful butterfly,
Or a bright flower always sort by the bees for it's beauty,
Not forgetting it's sweet nectar also!
That is my sweet Sweetie.
The flower is far from me and I cannot smell the aroma now,
Last night I went to dreamland where I hoped to find my flower Then I woke up this morning to melodious sounds,
Sounds of chirping birds in the nearby tree as if to praise her,
Thinking about my flower.
I want to tend and care for this flower,
So that she may produce more flowers like herself,
O flower! Remain that lovely forever.
poem by Nyota Yasulwe
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The Sun and The Moon
As the Sun
Sets on the Sea
With its reddish glow
And orange hues...
The day shades in for me
Awakening the
Night of Darkness
Within me...
And the setting Sun
On the horizon
Beckons me
Nearer to it
As if asking me
To seek shelter
In its radiant warmth
And magnanimous
Splendour...
Yet when I see
The swirling waters
Of the Sea...
With their myriad colours
Reflecting the Setting Sun's
Evening Glory -
I remember that
It is all a mirage
For the very same Sun
Inviting me in with all
Its Grandeur -
Can Scorch me dry
On one of those days
When it is bright and shining
In the clear, blue sky.
So I see it,
Cherish it
From far-away...
I love the sun setting
On the Sea
It is a lovely sight for me
Every day
Yet - I always revert back
To my night of darkness
When the sun sets in
Even if it is lonely and
Shadowy out here...
I still prefer
The coolness of the night
The bright, starry delight
Of the sky and the stars
And in that darkness -
That still, sombre mood
Of being alone, solitary
And so very lonely...
The tears in my eyes
Speak to my Beloved
Sans any words
Nor any letters
Yet feelings galore
Dreams aplenty...
The beautiful Moon
with its subtle grace
Takes the place
Of my messenger of love.
In its blue moonlight
I bask and ask -
Questions aplenty
To my Beloved.
And I wait and I wait
For the answers to come
Drifting by...
Like the soft evening breeze
And the cool night air
Rejuvenating me,
Arousing me
Teasing me
Making love to me...
Revitalising and
Refreshing me -
From lands afar,
Across the miles
Over the seven seas.
Like a clandestine affair
Of the Night
Amidst the stars and the sky
Where I laugh and I cry
With You
In my Fantasies...
Like it happens every night
When the Sun goes down
And ushers in the Night -
And Yes - The Witness
Of this night long
Love affair...
Fantasising without a care -
Remains my messenger of love:
The eternal Moon
With its blue moonlight.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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The Visible Creation
The God of nature and of grace
In all His works appears;
His goodness through the earth we trace,
His grandeur in the spheres.
Behold this fair and fertile globe,
By Him in wisdom plann'd;
'Twas He who girded, like a robe,
The ocean round the land.
Life to the firmament your eye
Thither His path pursue;
His glory, boundless as the sky,
O'erwhelms the wond'ring view.
He bows the heavens - the mountains stand
A highway for their God;
He walks amidst the desert land,
'Tis Eden where He trod!
The forests in His strength rejoice;
Hark! on the evening breeze,
As once of old, the Lord God's voice,
Is heard among the trees.
Here on the hills He feeds His herds.
His flocks on yonder plains;
His praise is warbled by the birds;
Oh could we catch their strains!
Mount with the lark and bear our song
Up to the gates of light;
Or, with the nightingale prolong
Our numbers through the night!
In every stream His bounty flows,
Diffusing joy and wealth;
In every breeze His spirit blows
The breath of life and health.
His blessings fall in plenteous showers
Upon the lap of earth,
That teems with foliage, fruit, and flowers,
And rings with infant mirth.
If God hath made this world so fair,
Where sin and death abound,
How beautiful beyond compare
Will paradise be found!
poem by James Montgomery
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A spring evening
Outside the irises flower yellow and purple
and I haven’t seen a red one yet
and there are some pink and white blossoms
on the fruit trees
and the streetlights burn continually
glowing orange-yellow
all day and all night
as if the municipality
does not know how to do things right
and in the fading evening light
the moon is full and white
and the evening star is already shining bright
and a hot breeze sweeps in
through the open windows
and I wonder when the first spring rain
is going to fall
and in the distance I see thunder
crashing down
in blue-white flashes, but the storm
is blown away and again the sky is clear
and the black speckled by stars.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Garland
The pride of every grove I chose,
The violet sweet and lily fair,
The dappled pink and blushing rose,
To deck my charming Cloe's hair.
At morn the nymph vouchsafed to place
Upon her brow the various wreath;
The flowers less blooming than her face,
The scent less fragrant than her breath.
The flowers she wore along the day,
And every nymph and shepherd said,
That in her hair they look'd more gay
Than glowing in their native bed.
Undress'd at evening, when she found
Their odours lost, their colours past,
She changed her look, and on the ground
Her garland and her eyes she cast.
That eye dropp'd sense distinct and clear
As any Muse's tongue could speak,
When from its lid a pearly tear
Ran trickling down her beauteous cheek.
Dissembling what I knew too well,
My love, my life, said I, explain
This change of humour; pr'ythee tell,
That falling tear - what does it mean?
She sigh'd, she smiled; and to the flowers
Pointing, the lovely moralist said,
See, friend, in some few fleeting hours,
See yonder what a change is made.
Ah me! the blooming pride of May
And that of Beauty are but one;
At morn both flourish bright and gay,
Both fade at evening, pale, and gone.
At dawn poor Stella danced and sung,
The amorous youth around her bow'd;
At night her fatal knell was rung;
I saw and kiss'd her in her shroud.
Such as she is who died to-day,
Such I, alas! may be to-morrow;
Go, Damon, bid thy Muse display
The justice of thy Cloe's sorrow.
poem by Matthew Prior
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Twentyfour Hours
Morning skies of blue,
morning drops of dew,
some overhead,
some beneath my feet,
They both come into view.
Afternoon sun so bright,
afternoon heat so white,
some on my skin
how I feel it burn.
It makes me welcome the night.
Evening sounds I hear,
evening sounds appear
when all is quiet,
no noise of the day
is there to interfere.
Peaceful dark of night,
peaceful with no light.
Nothing overhead
tucked up in my bed,
I've nothing but dreams in my sight.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Ich habe dich nie je so geliebt
I never loved you more, ma soeur
Than as I walked away from you that evening.
The forest swallowed me, the blue forest, ma soeur
The blue forest and above it pale stars in the west.
I did not laugh, not one little bit, ma soeur
As I playfully walked towards a dark fate -
While the faces behind me
Slowly paled in the evening of the blue forest.
Everything was grand that one night, ma soeur
Never thereafter and never before -
I admit it: I was left with nothing but the big birds
And their hungry cries in the dark evening sky.
poem by Bertolt Brecht
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The Master Artist
I watched a sunset one lovely
summer day. I watched as
the sun went slowly away.
Leaving behind colors of gorgeous
hue, shining there on the
sky so blue.
Watching the sunset that summer day
made me realize that along my way,
God makes His greatness plain in his own way,
Like sunsets, flowers and trees, winding rivers, deep blue seas,
silvery moon and twinkling stars.
All of these more lovely by far than any human could make them.
Scenes so beautiful no artist could paint,
to create such beauty, human being just can't.
For God is the artist, the master,
you see, creating such a beauty for you and me.
Autumn's Invitation Autumn is in her glory
All dressed in her beautiful ball gown,
Designed in the lovely fall colors
Of hues of red, green, and brown. Autumn is having a party,
All are invited to come
And join in the gay festivities,
Held in the autumn sun. All are invited to walk in gardens
on all the hills and vales,
And enjoy the blaze of vivid
tints and fragrances
On all the hills and dales. She has her sky a clear bright blue,
Her breezes are balmy too,
Making the weather just right
For each guest to enjoy the things they do. So won't you attend her party?
Autumn is inviting you,
Come and enjoy the hospitality
That autumn offers you.
poem by Velma G. Robinson
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Crystal Was The Night
The evening air was crisp and clear
we walked the streets, we had no fear.
We were so small and full of cheer
and Christmas soon was coming.
With laughter and with glee, we pranced
glancing at the holly.
Looking at the pretty lights
and feeling oh so jolly.
We knocked on every door we could
sang carols sweet as honey,
Merry Xmas, Silent Night
collecting lots of money!
Coins jangled in our pockets,
we skipped along the streets.
We didn't notice the cold air
we'd wings upon our feet.
The stars were out, they twinkled,
the moon looked kind of proud
to see us feeling happy,
no sign of any clouds.
Then the last house in the street,
we ran up to the door,
a man came out and shouted,
Get lost, I've called the law! '
Bloody beggars, he called to us.
We wondered why he'd made a fuss,
we thought we'd earned our money
bringing folks such happiness.
I looked into the sky,
I'd never seen the stars looking so bright
I was sure God would forgive us,
he couldn't possibly be cross
for our hearts were true
and crystal was the night.
poem by Ruth Walters
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The Fair Morning
The clear bright morning, with its scented air
And gaily waving flowers, is here again;
Man's heart is lifted with the voice of prayer,
And peace descends, as falls the gentle rain;
The tuneful birds, that all the night have slept,
Take up at dawn the evening's dying lay,
When sleep upon their eyelids gently crept
And stole with stealthy craft their song away.
High overhead the forest's swaying boughs
Sprinkle with drops the traveler on his way;
He hears far off the tinkling bells of cows
Driven to pasture at the break of day;
With vigorous step he passes swift along,
Making the woods reecho with his song.
poem by Jones Very
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Sun and Night
And sun, and sun, and sun, and sun,
And night, and night, and night, and night.
We get up and revolve, eat, make love:
Some of us go down to the park and swing,
Some of us cry her name in sleep-
The beauty we do all of this for,
The opposite body we do not know,
But wish to handle with devilish alacrities-
I’ve climbed a tall mountain in Colorado when
It was past my bedtime, and the little boy coming down
With his parents told me it was too late;
But I climbed it anyway, the rolling back of false summits,
To see the hidden threshold the sun runs through after her.
The plaque placed near the end by a weeping mother
For the dead skier,
The marble aspens at her shivering throat,
All the dark things which come into this world,
And are twisted up and confused, and utterly beautiful.
And she is confused, when she takes his hand and draws him to bed.
Made-up but hesitant, her legs open another time
As dusk transcends and flint sparks her moans in the dimmed room:
All of this I’ve never seen, as I’ve never touched the inner course of
Her thigh, never seen the things she shows him time and again,
The nocturnal budding of mammalian rosaries,
The clanging together of fleshed bones, the rights to lips
And bights of teeth, and tongues everywhere in the throws:
Somehow becomes mundane, the chalice sipped every evening,
And thus unappreciated, but not for me:
The unfamiliar lake where the women swim unabashedly nude,
Each of their fingers playing in their sorority’s gay ring:
If she welcomed me with a coy nod, seeing where I
Have summited, seeing only me against the dozing clouds
Atop the drowsing world, the thin air I cut myself into for her,
And she called me down into the confusion of trees,
Where the light dwindles like a dying stream,
I would make a bed with her in the nettles and birds,
And coil into her unwinding through the apertures of surrender.
And sun, and sun, and sun, and sun,
And night, and night, and night, and night.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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Enjoy A Beautiful Life
Look at the bright shinning blue sky
Look at the birds that're flying high
Look at the flowers and their view
That's all spreading joy that is true
Look at the star that is bright
Look at all life's pleasing sight
Look at the sun with a smile
That'll help you to go another mile
And when you'll do all this dear
Then you'll feel how much others care
And you'll enjoy a beautiful life
Where joy and fain all do survive
And you'll find the path of fain
will surely come in the way of pain
And will show you life's sight
which are full of joy and delight.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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Lovely Night
Written by gerry beckley, 1976
Found on hideaway and highway.
Its a lovely night
Its a lovely night
Well, the sky is clear and the stars are bright
Its a lovely night
But Ill go lookin for the fallin rain
Keep on movin, keep on playin that game
Lets go lookin for the fallin rain
Its a lovely night (its a lovely night)
Its a lovely night (its a lovely night)
Well, the sky is clear and the stars they are bright
Its a lovely night (its a lovely night)
But Ill go lookin for the fallin rain
Keep on movin, keep on playin that game
Lets go lookin for the fallin rain
On this lovely night
This lovely night
On this lovely night
On this lovely night
This lovely night
On this lovely night
Wo ho ho ho ho ho, this lovely night
Wo ho ho ho ho ho, this lovely night
Wo ho ho ho ho ho, this lovely night
Wo ho ho ho ho ho, this lovely night
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Into The Last Month Of Winter
Into the last month of Winter and the wattles cloaked in yellow flowers in bloom
And pink flowers on the camellias and yellow flowers on the broom
And all through the night the white backed magpies sing
On the third week of August coming up to the Spring
On the third week of August in the Southern Hemisphere
One does have a sense that Spring is quite near
The paddocks and parklands are looking quite green
And fragile pink flowers on the fruit trees are seen
Into the third week of August and birds sing in the rain
And all through the night frogs sing in pond and drain
And in the calm of the night in the parkland nearby
The breeding spur wing plovers in their territory cry
And all through the night on the moonlit gum trees
The songs of the magpies carry in the breeze.
poem by Francis Duggan
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